


The Shortest Distance Between Two Points

by LaVoileBlanche



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bed-sharing, Drunk confessions, F/F, First Kiss, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Nightmares, Post-Movie(s), Recovery, Slow Build, Spoilers, hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5669032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaVoileBlanche/pseuds/LaVoileBlanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Poe’s heart is a swollen thing in his chest, and at any moment he feels liable to pull Finn in for a kiss, but all he does is smile."</p><p>Another utterly unoriginal, "Poe and Finn fall in love on D'Qar" fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shortest Distance Between Two Points

There was always a chance that this would happen, and now that it has, all Poe can do is grit his teeth and keep his mouth shut because he may be beaten bruised and bloody on this grey cold starship, but he will not give up the Resistance. Not with his last breath.

Of course, the privilege of any such noble sentiment is stripped from him the second Kylo Ren digs into his brain with all the precision of a sledgehammer, turning through his memories and thoughts like it’s nothing while all the while Poe is screaming so long and loud he thinks his throat will never recover, rage and hate that don’t belong to him burning up his insides. Hux’s beatings are nothing compared to this. Kylo Ren simply takes what he needs and leaves him exhausted, slumping against his restraints, hoping against hope that the Resistance can get to BB-8 before anyone else does.

Because he’s not an idiot, he’s waiting for the Stormtrooper who takes him from his cell with a blaster pressed to his spine. With the last spark of petulance in him he drags his feet, and he guesses it makes the trooper impatient because next thing he knows, he’s pushed roughly down a side corridor. He’s about to snap off a line when the trooper does something he could never see coming.

He takes off his helmet.

Poe is, for the first time he can remember, genuinely speechless. He doesn't know when he stopped thinking of Stormtroopers as _human_ but he must have done, because he’s honestly stunned to see the face beneath the helmet, handsome even beaded with sweat and looking panicked.

“This is a rescue,” the Stormtrooper says, “I can get you out of here.”

Poe finds his words to ask if he’s with the Resistance, but he seems nothing more than confused by the question, and Poe may be frazzled from torture but he’s never been stupid. The trooper tells him he’s saving him because it’s the right thing to do, but Poe looks into his eyes and sees someone in just as much need of escape as he is.

“You need a pilot.” He says. It’s not a question.

“I need a pilot.” The trooper confirms, and Poe grins wide.

*

It feels important in a way he won't register until later that he gives Finn his name. At the time, he’s buzzing on the adrenaline of flight and escape and he can't focus on anything but flying free of the First Order and getting them back to Jakku. He only thinks that no-one deserves to live with a serial number instead of a name. In the seat behind him he can practically feel the trooper - _ex-_ trooper - thrumming with the same livewire energy he is, can't help but laugh at his exhilaration when he hits a target, and it’s just when he’s thinking maybe they’ll get out of this that the engine blows, and they’re spiralling towards Jakku too quickly and too violently for him to do anything more than squeeze his eyes shut and pray. He blacks out sometime after they hit the atmosphere.

*

Jakku is the driest, hottest place he’s ever been, and when he wakes from the crash he can hardly remember what he’s doing, how he came to be there again, looking out over the red sand dunes that stretch further than he can even see.

When it comes back to him, the capture, the escape, _Finn_ , he wishes he hadn't remembered at all. He looks around for the wreckage of the TIE fighter, for any sign of life but his, and finds nothing. Even his jacket is missing.

So, lost in the desert with no hope of rescue and no sign of the man he’d landed with, Poe does the only thing he can do.

He starts to walk.

*

Eventually, and _God,_ it feels like so much longer than it is, he’s back on D’Qar, and General Organa refuses to debrief with him until he’s been to the medbay, so there he is, on the edge of one of the beds, bouncing his knee while they patch him up.

Fresh white bandage over the cut in his forehead, Poe doesn't waste any time in telling her about what had happened, about BB-8 and Kylo Ren and the soldier who had saved him.

“Finn,” he says, “his name was Finn, did you find him? He rescued me, betrayed the First Order. I need to find him.”

General Organa shakes her head and tells him they found his crashed and stolen ship but there was no-one inside. She puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes and tells him she’s glad he’s back, and he smiles but he can't stop thinking about the smile under that helmet, about how it had felt to hear someone take their first taste of freedom.

*

Poe cannot believe his eyes. He has seen remarkable things every day for years but BB-8 rolling towards him beeping shrill excitement is brand new. He crouches to the droid’s level and beams at it, and he thinks he’s never been this happy to see anything before, and maybe never will again, and then he sees Finn and proves himself wrong straight away.

They embrace and Poe holds tight and thinks _thank God_ with an intensity that should be embarrassing but isn't because all he can think about is how Finn has seen so little of the universe and Poe wants to show him all of it.

“You completed my _mission_ , Finn, and - that’s my jacket.”

The galaxy is conspiring against him. Finn, in the flesh, looking distressingly good in his jacket, having saved his droid, having saved the Resistance. Poe falls a little in love with him then, he thinks.

So _of course_ when he says he needs his help, Poe tells him,

“Anything you need.”

*

After they destroy the Starkiller, it’s Rey who stands vigil over Finn, not Poe.

He comes when he can, of course, gets updates from Rey that start out stilted and become more natural the more they see each other, but as much as the Resistance is still celebrating their victory over the First Order, they don't have time to gloat. Han Solo, as well as good dozen other pilots, and all their supporters from the Republic, are dead. That the attack on the Starkiller has left the First Order scrambling is true enough, but their enemies are hardly in better shape. Hopefully now that they have the map, that will change, but for the time being, all it's meant is that Poe has been busy, and has hardly seen Finn since Chewbacca gave him over to the medteam.

He didn't look good, sweaty and unconscious when they floated him into the base, but Poe doesn't let himself think about that too much. He knows barely anything about Finn, but he knows he’ll be waking up. It’s just a question of when.

He makes his way to Finn’s bedside as soon as things start to calm down, BB-8 rolling beside him like a loyal pet.

The medbay is pristine and sterile, to the point where he feels just a little guilty stepping through the doorway of Finn’s room in his dusty uniform. Rey, an almost constant presence in the room, doesn't turn at the sound of his entrance, but he's not really surprised. He knows, from battlefield rumours, that she uses the Force, and he’s been around General Organa too long not to understand some of the implications of that.

“Hey,” he says, settling into the other free seat, casting a cursory look over Finn’s still body, the slow rise and fall of his chest. “Any change?”

Rey shakes her head as BB-8 whirs around the bed, chirping to itself as it takes Finn in.

“No,” she says, “the doctors say it’s a good thing, that it means he’s healing, but…”

“But you just wish he’d wake up.”

She looks at him, a touch guilty.

“Yes.” She says.

“He’ll wake up when he’s ready to,” Poe says, “no good in waiting for any more than that, doctors say.”

She frowns. In the cool light of the medbay, in clean, sandless clothing, she’s still striking, all pensive gaze, smooth skin. Finn’s lucky, if the way she’s looking at him is any indication.

But then, Finn’s not exactly hard on the eyes. Poe isn't sure who to be more jealous of.

“I have to leave, soon.” Rey says. “To find Luke. I wanted… I would have liked to say goodbye. He helped me so much.”

Poe watches her expression, nothing but softness where she’s brushing her thumb over the back of Finn’s unresponsive hand.

“Yeah, he has a habit of doing that. Helping people.” He says, and now he’s looking at him, too, a little bit fond, a little bit admiring. He pulls his eyes away and finds Rey again, only to see that she’s been studying him just the same. “I’ll look out for him, while you’re gone.”

She nods

“Thank you.” She says, and then stands. “I think I should find the general.”

“I’ll keep him company.” Poe tells her when she leaves, and she turns back to give him a small smile, and a wave.

When she’s gone, he stretches out, propping his feet against the foot of the hospital bed. He’s got nowhere else to be, for now. The soft beeps and ticks of all of Finn’s machines are almost peaceful, and he lets himself relax, waiting. Finn will wake up. Someone just has to be there to see it.

*

Rey finds him in his room, hours later, after the doctors have kicked him out, knocks hesitantly on the door even though it’s open, and, biting her lip, tells him she’s leaving. Poe, lounging on his bunk and flicking through some report or another on his holopad, just nods slowly, while BB-8 rolls away from him and looks up at Rey, letting out a mournful chirp as it bumps against her legs. She pats its head with a sad smile on her face.

“Good luck.” Poe says, because there’s not much else to say. Either they’ll find Skywalker and bring him back, or they won’t.

“Thanks,” she says. She looks nervous, but determined - Poe is as impressed by her as everyone else she’s met. “Did you mean what you said, about Finn?”

“Of course.” He says. It occurs to him that she is about to do something incredibly brave. After Kylo Ren and the Starkiller and having to abandon everything she’s ever known, he wouldn’t blame her if she just wanted to go back to Jakku and bury her head in the sand. Literally, maybe. “Be careful.”

She smiles.

“I’ll see you when I get back. Both of you.”

He wants to ask if she’s already said her goodbyes to Finn, but she’s gone before he can, BB-8 only hesitating for a second before it follows. It will be back, he knows. And he hopes she will be, too.

*

Suddenly, all the Resistance is just waiting for Luke Skywalker. Missions are flown less regularly, training schedules relaxed, and Poe finds himself with all the time in the world on his hands. He grabs a holopad and a sewing kit he’s scrounged off one of the other pilots, and settles himself in Finn’s room to wait. The medical droids and human staff allow themselves to be charmed into letting him stay, he thinks, because they know who Finn is, and therefore they know he deserves to have someone alongside him for this.

Fixing the long charred tear in the back of what was once Poe’s jacket takes up the best part of two days, but he’s pretty pleased with the end result. It’s not inconspicuous, but it’s a serviceable repair, and besides, he thinks the stripe of slightly different-coloured leather adds character. Finishing it makes him want Finn to wake up more than ever.

It’s the fourth day after Rey has left that Finn starts showing tangible signs of life, and Poe can’t hold back his whoop of excitement when he notices his fingers twitching against the sheets, eyes blinking blearily open. As a medical droid swoops in to see what all the fuss is about, Poe leans in, putting his hand over Finn’s and grinning like a maniac.

“Hey, buddy!” He says. The droid shoots him an annoyed look, which he ignores. “Welcome back to the land of the living! You really had us all going for a while there.”

Finn tries for a smile, but it turns into a grimace halfway through, probably as he registers the pain from his back.

“What happened?” He croaks. Poe pours him a cup of water and hands it over before answering.

“A lot. You were there for most of it. After Ren got a lucky swing in with you, Rey took him on. And won.”

Finn takes a drink, and furrows his brow. The medi-droid is holding his other wrist, measuring his pulse and looking approving, which Poe takes as a good sign. He knew Finn would come out of this okay. He can't stop smiling.

“So he’s dead? Where’s Rey?”

“No. We destroyed the oscillator, thanks to the explosions inside - nice work with that, by the way - but the planet's surface started to fracture. From what Rey’s said, Ren was on his back on the snow when the ground between them split open. No-one knows what happened to him after that - we were more concerned with getting the two of you off-planet.”

The medi-droid interrupts their conversation, easing Finn gently into a sitting position to get at his bandages.

“It is very fortunate that we managed to,” it says, “there are not many who can boast that they took a direct hit from a lightsaber and survived.”

Finn’s frown deepens.

“I nearly died?” He says.

Poe feels his smile slip, a little. He doesn't like to think about what might have happened to Finn if Chewbacca hadn't found him. Rey either, for that matter.

“‘Nearly’ being the operative word,” he says, “but look at you now, practically good as new.”

“Huh.” Says Finn.

“What?”

“Nothing. Stormtrooper stuff. Not really used to the idea of _healing_ the wounded.” Finn says, like it’s not a big deal. The medi-droid makes a noise almost like distress.

Poe takes a moment to process that, and then wants to violently destroy every single asshole in the First Order, twice.

“Well, things work differently here,” he says, forcing a smile, and then quickly changes the subject. “And in answer to your other question, Rey’s gone with Chewbacca to find Luke Skywalker.”

Finn’s eyebrows nearly touch his hairline.

“You’re serious?” He asks, and Poe nods.

“Yep. She wanted to stay here until you’d woken up, but…”

Finn winces as the medi-droid swipes disinfectant over his wound, but he seems more concerned about Rey than anything else.

“Was she okay?”

“You know Rey,” says Poe, “nothing keeps her down for long. She’ll be back, Skywalker in tow, before we know it.”

Finn smiles, soft and fond.

“Yeah,” he says, “you’re probably right.”

“Well, master Finn, your back is healing nicely. I believe with some bed rest, a course of physical therapy, you should be back to yourself in no time at all.” The medi-droid says, lowering Finn until he’s horizontal again, and Poe feels a wash of relief.

“How’s that for some good news?” He says. “And, speaking of good news, I got you a present.”

He twists in his chair to grab for the jacket hidden under it as the medi-droid rolls out of the room, presumably to let someone else know Finn’s awake.

“A present?” Poe can’t tell if Finn’s voice is excited or confused.

“Yes,” he says, turning back around with a flourish, the jacket held aloft in his hands. “A present.”

Finn gapes, and Poe can’t suppress his grin.

“Your jacket!” He says.

Poe shakes his head, tosses the jacket onto the foot of the bed.

“ _Y_ _our_ jacket,” he corrects. Finn picks it up like he’s worried about breaking it, touch almost reverent as he runs his fingers over Poe’s handiwork. “I fixed it, for you.”

Finn’s expression is so endearing, equal parts confused and delighted, that Poe wishes he could capture it on his holopad.

“Are you sure?” He asks, voice low and serious. Poe waves him off.

“Of course I’m sure,” he says, “I meant what I said, you know. It suits you.”

Finn blushes, and Poe’s smile just gets wider.

He’s filling him in on everything that’s been happening since they got back to base, the scouting missions he’s been flying, the evacuation prep General Organa is working on, when a host of doctors and nurses and droids flood the room, ordering him out so they can take proper care of their patient. Poe leaves graciously, figuring it can't hurt to be on their good sides. He claps a hand on Finn’s leg.

“See you later, buddy.” He says, and then he’s gone.

*

He goes to General Organa, first, to let her know that Finn is awake. He is one of the few witnesses to what happened between Kylo Ren and Han, and is also a huge part of the reason they were able to defeat the First Order - he assumes she’ll want to speak to him. After that, it’s to the hangar, where he finds BB-8 waiting.

“Hey,” he says, crouching to pat it with a smile. “Finn woke up.”

The droid whirrs excitedly, and Poe laughs.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m going back to see him later. You can come.”

BB-8 makes a pleased noise, and Poe straightens to consider his ship, grimier than it should be, showing signs of neglect from the time he’s been spending with Finn. 

“You gonna help me get her clean while we wait?” He asks, and BB-8 beeps an affirmative. They work together in companionable quiet until the X-Wing shines, and then, still a little greasy, return to the med bay, and to Finn.

*

He’s wide awake, sitting in bed propped by half-a-dozen pillows, and just the sight of him through the window has Poe grinning. BB-8, in its excitement, whirrs in ahead of him, and Poe watches Finn laugh a little in surprise as the droid rolls up to his side.

“Hey there, little buddy,” he hears him say, quietly, “good to see you again.”

BB-8 chirrups, and Poe takes the opportunity to step into the room.

“He says right back at you,” he says. Finn looks up at him, and a huge bright smile splits his face, and Poe is utterly charmed. “How’re you feeling?”

He settles himself back in his regular chair, carefully moving the jacket that had been placed there, as Finn shrugs.

“Been worse,” he says, “the doctors keep giving me pills, I can barely feel my back anymore. It’s kinda weird.”

Poe laughs.

“I’ll bet,” he says, “but you’re gonna miss it when they decide you’re healthy enough to come off the meds. Trust me, I know.”

Finn grimaces.

“Ugh, I am _not_ looking forward to that.” He says, and looks so miserable thinking about it that Poe almost feels bad.

“Hey, you’re a pretty big deal in these parts, now,” he offers, “maybe they’ll let you stay on them for a little longer than normal. After all, if the hero of the Starkiller base doesn't deserve extra painkillers, then who does?”

Finn snorts.

“‘Hero of the Starkiller base,’ yeah, right,” he says, “I got knocked out five minutes into the real battle.”

“Are you kidding me?” Poe asks him, and means every ounce of the incredulity he injects into his tone, “you took on _Kylo Ren_ , arguably _the_ scariest person in the galaxy, with a weapon you had used exactly _once_ before. I don't know how to tell you this, Finn, but that’s definite hero material, right there.”

BB-8 makes a fervent sound of agreement, rolling closer to Finn’s bed until it’s domed head touches his hand.

“You and Rey are the ones who did all the useful stuff,” Finn argues, “Han could have lowered the shields without me, but without you, the oscillator wouldn't have been destroyed. Without Rey, Ren could have killed us all.”

“Buddy, you have no idea how wrong you are,” Poe says, shaking his head, “as soon as we get you out of this bed, you’re gonna see exactly what you mean to the Resistance.”

*

It turns out that won’t be for a while, though. The medi-droid is on strict orders to make sure that Finn remains exactly where he is for at least a week. Two days into his mandated bed rest, he’s already restless and fidgety. He pouts from his bed and tries to insist that he’s fine, and Poe and the medi-droid shut him down with good humour and slowly thinning patience, respectively.

“I get it, buddy,” says Poe, “you wanna be up and out of here. But these doctors know what they’re talking about. You gotta rest up.”

Finn calls him a traitor, and Poe flashes him a bright smile.

“Listen,” he says, “I’d love to let you up -”

“So do!”

“- but I don’t wanna get my ass kicked. You think Rey would thank me for letting you get hurt again?”

It’s probably a low blow, judging by the way Finn’s expression shifts guiltily, but it works, so Poe can’t feel too bad about it.

“Tell you what,” he says, “you be good for the doc, and I promise I’ll visit you everyday, how’s that?”

“What, you wouldn’t come anyway?” Finn asks, grinning, and damn, Poe hadn’t realised he was that transparent.

“You got me there,” he allows, “how about this - you stay here and do everything the doctors tell you, and I’ll keep you up-to-date on everything that’s going on with the First Order, okay?”

It’s a promise he definitely shouldn’t make. A lot of the things he’s told are capital-C classified, but if Finn hasn’t earned the Resistance’s trust by now, Poe doubts he ever will. He pretends to think over Poe’s offer, and then nods, holds out his hand.

“Deal.” He says.

Poe smiles, takes his hand.

*

Poe keeps his word, but developments are slow, and the little trickles of information he can pass to Finn each day do not keep him distracted enough from the fact that he’s being prevented from leaving his bed. So, he changes tactics. Four days into Finn’s medically-sanctioned confinement, he brings a holopad stacked with vids of his favourite musicians, hours and hours of his favourite songs that they play out loud in the little room, Finn bobbing his head and smiling slowly as he gets a sense of the rhythm, Poe getting a kick just out of watching him. He likes jazz, and rock and roll, and all the embarrassing, obnoxious pop songs Poe has never made it round to deleting.

“I’ve never heard anything like this, before!” Finn yells over the music. The medi-droid busy fussing around had turned its ears off very quickly after Poe had hit play, and Poe thinks he’s probably going to have to make up for it somehow, but any price is worth it for the look on Finn’s face, the slow enchantment.

The next day, it’s maps and star charts, holograms of planets Finn has never even heard of before. Poe points out blue constellations while BB-8 rolls around, tilting the projection this way and that in its enthusiasm. He’s got stories for about half the systems he can see, and he tells Finn all of them. Once, he makes him laugh so hard he starts to cry, clutching his sides, and the medi-droid nearly throws him out.

On the final day of his sentence, the day he can officially be released, Poe teaches Finn sabacc, and they're playing so long that the sky starts to darken outside without either of them noticing.

Finn’s medi-droid wheels into the room, and stops short at seeing Poe and BB-8.

“Oh, Commander Poe,” it says, “I did not expect to find you here so late. I am here to remind Master Finn that though he is no longer limited to this bed, his healing process still requires rest.”

Poe glances up in surprise at the stars appearing on the horizon. He assumes that the medi-droid means to imply that he should leave, but Finn looks so depressed at the thought of sleeping alone in the med bay for any longer than he has to that he has an idea.

“Yes, about that,” he says, “I was wondering if Finn might be allowed to stay in my quarters while he heals.”

The medi-droid and Finn both look at him. Even BB-8 turns to him like he’s lost his mind.

“I know you never have enough hospital beds,” he continues, trying not to blush, because he has legitimate reasons for wanting Finn in his room but blushing will not convince anyone of that fact. “And I’ve enough room for two. I can keep an eye on him, while the doctors are busy with other patients. Even make sure he takes his meds, if I have to.”

The medi-droid is silent, considering, for a long moment. Poe chances a look at Finn, only to find him staring back, eyebrows raised in bemusement. He grins reassuringly, then turns back to the droid to wait for approval.

“It is highly irregular to release a patient into anyone but a doctor’s care,” it says, and Poe’s heart sinks, but then it continues, “however, your companionship may, in this case, facilitate the healing process. I can sanction Master Finn’s removal from the ward only if strict conditions are met regarding his welfare.”

“Of course, doc,” says Poe, grinning wide in relief, “whatever you say.”

*

Finn refuses a wheelchair point-blank, but he at least allows Poe to support him, one arm around his waist, his free hand clutching a bag full of medicine, as they limp to his quarters like some kind of ungainly, four-legged monster. BB-8 rolls ahead of them like an excitable puppy, stopping every few feet to turn back to look at them and chirp, as if urging them to hurry.

“So, how’s it feel to be back on your feet?” Poe asks, looking sideways at Finn, who’s doing an admirable job of pretending not to be in as much pain as Poe knows he must be in, even with all the drugs.

“Better than being stuck in a hospital bed.” He says, but he’s smiling like all is right with the world.

“Well, you can thank _me_ for getting you out of there,” Poe teases, “you’ll have the pleasure of my delightful company for the foreseeable future, instead.”

“Hm,” Finn says, “maybe I should go back to the droid.”

Poe laughs, and then they’re at his door.

“Well, here it is,” he says, pushing it open and manoeuvring them into the space, “home sweet home.”

It’s not a lot, by any stretch of the imagination, just a little room kitted with the most basic of furniture, and a connecting bathroom, but it’s Poe’s, and he’s done his best to make it feel like home. A lot of that means leaving his clothes in piles around the floor, but he’s got posters on the walls, too, blueprints of decommissioned Starfighters, and books and manuals on every surface. A photograph of his parents on Yavin IV. Finn is silent, taking it all in, and Poe guides him to the low bed to sit while he attempts to tidy up.

“Sorry about the mess,” he says, taking a sock BB-8 helpfully holds out to him. “I promise I’ll keep it clean while you’re staying here. Or, mostly clean, anyway.”

He straightens when Finn doesn't respond, and looks at him only to find that he’s still looking around with something like wonder in his expression. When his eyes catch on the glow-in-the-dark stars Poe has stuck to his ceiling, his face all but lights up.

“Finn?”

He snaps his gaze back to Poe, and blushes.

“Sorry.” He says.

“Don't worry about it. What’s up?” With BB-8’s help, he starts to put together the fold-out camp bed that he’d had stuffed away in case of refugee emergencies or something.

Finn shakes his head, smiling down at his hands.

“Don't think anyone on Starkiller had quarters like this,” he says, “not even Phasma.”

Poe’s brow furrows.

“What do you mean? You didn't have bedrooms? Where did you sleep?”

“In these, uh, dormitories, I guess. And we had these beds like little capsules, or escape pods, so we couldn't talk to each other. Nothing like this.”

Poe pauses in the act of assembling his bed and stares. BB-8 makes a little beep of sympathy and rolls up to Finn, nudging into his leg until he pats it. Poe wishes he could be so easy with his affection. Finn doesn't look too upset, remembering his old home, but all Poe wants to do is bundle him in a blanket and hug him forever. He must be going soft.

“Well,” he says, after realising he’s been quiet too long. “You should get used to it. The bed’s yours.”

He shakes his head.

“No way, man,” he says, making like he’s going to stand, which is in no way a good idea with the state his back is still in. “I'm not taking your bed.”

“You don't get a choice, hotshot.” Poe tells him as the final piece of the bed clicks into place. “You’re the guest here, you get the bed. Besides, if your back’s gonna get better at all, you need some degree of comfort. I’m used to sleeping anywhere, believe me. It’s fine.”

Finn doesn't look happy about it, but he seems to at least realise this is a fight he’s not going to win, and slouches back down, defeated.

“Fine,” he says, “but as soon as my back’s healed, we’re switching.”

“Who knows,” says Poe, “by that time, maybe you’ll have a room of your own. I bet there’s a lot of people willing to give up their space for a hero.”

Finn scoffs, but he’s smiling, so Poe counts it as a victory.

*

The thing about having a roommate, Poe realises, is that when he wakes in the middle of the night sweating and shaky from a nightmare of Kylo Ren pushing through his mind, it’s tricky to avoid waking him. It occurs to him that perhaps he didn't think this all the way through, but in the soft light of D’Qar’s moons shining through the window, Finn is snoring, lying on his stomach with his arm hanging down over the side of the bed, and he can't bring himself to regret it. Instead, he closes his eyes and breathes, slow, until his heart rate feels normals again, and then tiptoes around the clutter of his bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom.

He splashes cold water onto his face, and tells his reflection in whispered tones that he’s fine, that the nightmares are only nightmares and he’s _safe_ , now. It mostly works. When he shuts off the bathroom light and steps back into the bedroom, Finn is awake, sitting with his feet on the floor, and watching him. 

Poe stops short.

“Hey,” he says, keeping his voice quiet just because, “sorry for waking you.”

Finn shrugs.

“It’s okay,” he says, “are you alright?”

Poe flashes him a smile, and nods.

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah, of course I am.”

“You sure?” Finn asks, concern creasing his brow. Poe can't decide if he’s touched by his worry or embarrassed by it.

“Don’t worry about it, hotshot,” he says, instead of giving a real answer. “You should get some sleep.”

“Can't.” He says, simply. Poe crosses the room, and sits on the camp bed, facing Finn.

“You weren't having too much trouble a few minutes ago,” he says, smirking, “I bet even General Organa could hear you snoring.”

Finn rolls his eyes.

“Whatever,” he says, but he’s grinning, “but I mean it. I can't sleep. I feel like I’ve been asleep for months. It’s weird.”

“Well, you _were_ in a medical coma,” says Poe, “you’ve done nothing but sleep for weeks. I’m not surprised you’re bored of it.”

Finn shakes his head.

“It’s not just that,” he says, “on Starkiller, we got set sleeping hours - you didn't sleep more than they told you to.”

Something unpleasant starts to unfold in Poe’s stomach, but he ignores it.

“How long did you sleep for?” He asks, hating himself for it.

He shrugs again.

“Four hours? Five? Not many.”

Poe is becoming uncomfortably familiar with the specific kind of rage this comment inspires in him.

“You can sleep as long as you like here,” he says, and his voice is too fervent, but he figures Finn can't see his face, so he gets away with it. “No-one’s going to object to you catching some shut-eye after you saved the galaxy, Finn.”

Finn smiles, soft, disarmed, almost sad. 

“I keep wondering when I’ll have to go back,” he says, just barely more than a whisper. “Spent all this time running, seems too good to be true that they’d let me go.”

Poe’s heart clenches.

“Finn,” he says. “Listen to me. They’re not getting you back. I’m not gonna let them take you.”

He wants to say _they’d have to kill me first_ . He wants to say _Rey would kill them before they could even touch you_ , but he doesn't. Finn just looks at him, and nods, slowly. Poe slides back under his covers, and Finn does the same. Poe can hear the soft whisper of the sheets sliding over each other, Finn’s breathing turn slower.

“Hey Poe?” He says.

“Yeah, buddy?” Poe answers, without a second's hesitation.

“Thanks. And goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Finn.”

Poe falls back into sleep to the quiet comfort of Finn’s snores. In his dream, this time, Finn is pulled away from him by a dozen Stormtroopers, reaching out with a desperation on his face that is the last thing Poe sees before he disappears behind a wall of soldiers, each one impossible to distinguish from the last. When he snaps awake, gasping, the golden light of morning is just creeping into the room. Finn is sound asleep in the bed, blanket twisted around him. He goes for a shower.

*

Poe manages to get to the mess hall and back with two trays of breakfast food before Finn wakes up. He's sitting on the edge of his makeshift bed, looking over his latest mission briefing on the holopad when he hears a low groan, and looking up, sees Finn stretching out, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey buddy," he says, "I brought you breakfast. You can wash your meds down with it." 

Finn takes in the scene, and smiles slow and genuine and surprised.

"Thanks, Poe." He says. He reaches with a wince for his little bottle of pills and carefully shakes out his dose, tipping it back dry with a grimace.

“How’s your back?”

“Aches,” Finn says. “But your bed’s a hell of a lot more comfortable than the one in the med bay.”

Poe tries not to show how pleased he is by this.

“Glad to hear it,” he says. He stands, carries Finn’s tray over to him. He takes it with a grateful smile. “Any big plans for the day?”

“Gotta get approval for my first physio session,” Finn says tearing his bread into small chunks, “so back to the med bay.”

“You want company?”

Poe really should check back in with his squadron, but he trusts Jess to take care of any problems that arise. Finn is his priority, for now.

“You don’t have anything better to do?”

“Better than spending the day with you? Of course not. There's not exactly a lot happening around here, not until Rey gets back, anyway.”

“In that case,” Finn says, looking relieved, “you can come. I don't think I know the way to the training room, anyway.”

*

Poe helps Finn limp to the training room they’re using for his physiotherapy, keeping up a stream of harmless dialogue while they walk, conscious the whole time of Finn’s comfortable warmth swaying against him with every step, the extra few inches he has over him, the way he’s wearing his jacket, again. He stays with him throughout the whole session, making encouraging comments from the sidelines whenever it’s appropriate. He thinks the therapist probably hates him a little, but it’s worth it for the way that Finn smiles at him, exhausted, but quietly pleased with his support.

When it’s finally over, the therapist declaring that she's very happy with Finn’s improvement, Poe hands him a bottle of water and sits with him while he recovers, stretching out all his aches. Poe watches the play of his back muscles under his shirt, and then feels guilty about it. 

“Looks like you’ll be back to running from lightsabers in no time at all,” he says, “I think you impressed your therapist.”

Finn grimaces.

“I hope so,” he says, “everything hurts right now. The sooner I can quit this, the better.”

Poe can't help but laugh at the discontent on his face.

“Come on,” he says, patting him lightly on the back, mindful of his injury, “let's go eat. I bet you’ve worked up quite the appetite, huh?”

“I’m starving,” Finn says, looking surprised at the realisation, “I didn't even notice.”

“That’s what you have me for.” Poe tells him, and stands, offering his arm for support. Finn takes it gladly, and together they manage a lopsided walk to the mess hall. Poe can't help but notice that Finn is leaning on him far more than he had been earlier, and he makes a note of it. After lunch, he’ll suggest going back to his - their - room to rest for a while.

The mess hall is thankfully quiet - they've missed the midday rush. Poe guides Finn to a far table where he won't be harassed, and then fills two trays of food for them.

“Here,” he says, sitting opposite him, “I didn't know what you liked, so I got some of everything.”

“Thanks,” says Finn, pulling his tray towards him eagerly. “I’ve been wanting to try the food here ever since General Organa came to see me in her lunch break. It all looks so good.”

Poe lets out a surprised laugh.

“Are you serious?” He says, and Finn frowns at him. “Finn, these are just rations, buddy. You should try the stuff I used to eat back home, now that, that was food to get excited about.”

“Our rations on Starkiller were nothing like this,” Finn says, and Poe instantly feels terrible. “I’ve never seen fruit that colour before.”

“Finn,” Poe says, all sincerity, “one day, I will take you somewhere where the food’s so good you will be _ruined_ for every other meal you will ever eat. And that is a _promise_.”

Someone makes a disbelieving noise, and then settles into the seat beside him.

“Don't believe anything this one tells you.” The new arrival says, and Poe rolls his eyes.

“Finn, this is Jessika Pava,” he says, gesturing, and his lieutenant waves. “She’s a pilot in my squadron.”

“Good to meet you, Jessika.” Says Finn, nodding politely.

“Likewise, Finn the Hero,” says Jessika, “and call me Jess.”

Finn flushes red at the title, and Jess smirks.

“Ignore her, Finn,” Poe advises him, “that’s what the rest of us do.”

“You telling me he’s not a hero, boss?” Jess says, and steals a chunk of bread from his tray. “That's not what you said the other day.”

Now it’s Poe’s turn to blush.

“I keep telling you people I’m not a hero,” Finn says, “I was just in the right place at the right time.”

“Oh, and he’s modest, too? You’ve done well for yourself here, Dameron.”

“Shut up, Pava.” Poe says pleasantly, and Jess sticks her tongue out at him. Finn watches their interaction with rapt attention, until she turns back to him.

“But in all seriousness, Finn,” she says, uncharacteristically sincere, “you’ve been a huge asset to the Resistance. Without you, we wouldn't have our shot at finding Skywalker, and the boss man here might never have made it home.”

As she claps him on the shoulder, Poe looks up at Finn at the unexpected reminder of their meeting, and finds his eyes on him already, dark and intense. He looks away first.

“I’m sure that’d be a real tragedy.” He says drily, and Jess rolls her eyes.

“You're the best pilot we’ve got, and you know it.”

“I saw you fly on Takodana,” Finn says, as if he’s just remembered. “It was pretty impressive.”

Poe blinks at him.

“Thanks.” he says, taken aback. “You didn't tell me that.”

Finn shrugs.

“Didn't really get the time.”

They're looking at each other for a moment longer, and Jess looking between the two of them, and then she speaks, and they look away quickly.

“Well, we can't all sit around doing nothing,” she says, standing, “it was nice to meet you, Finn. And Poe, I’ll see you in the hangar sometime. Snap thinks he’s ready to have a sabacc rematch, so anytime you feel like taking him down a peg...”

Poe nods.

“See you around, Lieutenant.” He says.

“Bye,” says Finn, then looks at Poe after she’s gone. “She seemed nice. Is she your subordinate?”

Poe shrugs.

“Yeah, but outside of battle, that doesn't mean much.”

Finn nods slowly, absorbing that information, and Poe watches him carefully.

“Let me guess,” he says, a sinking feeling in his stomach, “ranking didn't work like that on Starkiller, did it?”

Finn smiles sadly, shakes his head.

“I don't think I ever saw an inferior soldier talk to their commanding officer like that,” he says, and he sounds wistful, like it’s something he regrets. “Phasma only ever gave us orders or reprimands. Anyone who tried talking back was in for reconditioning, at least.”

“Reconditioning?” Poe says, unable to keep the horror out of his tone. Finn looks up and nods, grim expression on his face.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like,” he says, “getting brainwashed back into everything the Order believed in.”

“Jesus.” Says Poe.

“Yeah,” says Finn, “it was pretty messed up.” But his expression clears, brightens, and he says, “but thanks to you, I got out.”

“I think you’ve got that backwards.” Poe grins, and Finn rolls his eyes but smiles back, anyway.

*

Finn, by the time another month has elapsed, is declared fully recovered. The medteam is stymied, unable to explain his elastic bounce back to health, and some of the more _scientific_ among them want to pull him back for all kinds of tests, but Poe goes to General Organa and she puts a very firm foot down on that kind of talk. Finn has had enough people messing with him, already. The Resistance are supposed to be different.

They celebrate by borrowing one of the larger starfighters and flying over D’Qar at a speed they really shouldn't be, Finn laughing from the gunner’s seat, practically bouncing as Poe steers them in patterns through the sky, whooping when he twists them upside-down. BB-8, strapped in the back, beeps shrilly, but it’s mostly for show. The droid knows they won't crash.

Beneath his helmet, Poe can feel his cheeks ache with how wide he’s smiling. His nightmares may be waiting for him when he falls asleep, but for now, he is blissful, Finn’s exhilaration an echo of his own. Nothing, he thinks, nothing at all, comes close to this, to the pure, unfiltered delight of flying. This is what he was _born_ to do. He flies them low over the lake pulling back into the hangar, and Finn laughs at the wet splash against the windshield, and Poe wishes he could be allowed to have this, always.

When they’re on the ground again, BB-8 rolling in great exaggerated circles to emphasise how happy it is to be back on-planet, Finn pulls off his helmet and grabs Poe in a hug that takes him completely by surprise, arms coming up out of reflex alone to reciprocate.

“Thank you.” He says, patting him on the back. Poe can feel the warmth of his breath on his neck, and clutches him closer. He hasn’t missed the fact that he wears his jacket _everywhere._

“No problem, bud,” he says, “anytime.”

*

That night, Poe sleeps soundly for the first time in what feels like ages, and it is the sound of Finn's voice that wakes him, and not his own fears.

He looks across the room, frowning, to see Finn twisted in his sheets, sweating and moaning, expression creased with pain, and within seconds he has rolled onto his feet, and is at his side.

“Finn,” he says, keeping his voice low. He lays a hand on his shoulder, shakes him gently. “Finn, buddy, wake up, you’re safe, I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Finn's expression twists, and then Poe is watching him blink blearily into wakefulness, trying to ignore the crushing relief he feels at the sight.

“Hey,” he says, “you were dreaming.”

Finn frowns, pushes himself up onto his elbows.

“Did I wake you?” He says, “I’m sorry, I just -”

Poe shushes him, rubbing a thumb along his collarbone where he’s still holding onto him.

“Don’t be an idiot,” he says, “you don't have to be sorry.”

Finn shakes his head.

“It was…” He sighs, tries again. “I was dreaming about Jakku, the first time, all those people…”

Poe doesn't need him to elaborate. He remembers the flames, remembers the screams. Has relived them himself, on occasion, in between the reminder of exactly how it had felt to have his mind cracked open like an egg by Kylo Ren’s cruel hand.

“And then on Starkiller…” He looks at Poe. “I keep seeing Kylo Ren again, hurting Rey. Hurting you. And I can't do a damn thing to stop it.”

He looks down bitterly, and Poe’s heart fairly breaks.

“Finn,” he says, “I’m fine. And Rey’s fine. She is going to find Luke Skywalker and drag him back here kicking and screaming if she has to, and we are going to stop Ren once and for all, okay? We’re not going to let him hurt anyone else.”

Finn nods, slowly, letting Poe’s words convince him.

“Yeah,” he says, and then again, louder, “yeah. Okay.”

Poe cannot fight his own horrors, but he’ll be damned if he’s not going to do everything in his power to keep Finn’s away.

“You’re good, Finn,” he says, patting him on the arm, “sleep well.”

He turns to his own bed, but Finn tangles their fingers together, and he is stopped short. He looks back at him, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Poe,” Finn says, face serious, “I’ve got you, too. If you need me, I’m here. I won't mind.”

Poe’s mouth feels dry. He is incredibly conscious of Finn’s warm hand in his, the unlikely softness of his skin. Any hope that his nightmares had gone unnoticed after the first night is gone, but Finn doesn't seem anything other than genuine in his offer, and Poe almost can’t understand it.

“Thanks,” he rasps, pulling his hand away, “goodnight, Finn.”

Finn’s smile is soft and lovely.

“Goodnight, Poe.” He says.

*

When word gets back to General Organa from _The Millennium Falcon_ that Rey has landed, everything is stepped up a notch. Poe and Finn find, increasingly, that they are needed, and their time together is sliced into. Poe flies short recon missions to all kinds of strange planets and space stations, rooting out potential allies, potential enemies; Finn spends half his time with General Organa, pouring out everything he can remember about the First Order, and the other half training with other Resistance fighters, everything from hand-to-hand combat to droid-speak to aerial battle. They use any brief snatch of time they get together to catch up, and at the end of the day stay up telling each other about what they've been doing until their throats are sore with speaking. It does them both good to be busy, but Poe finds himself missing his friend-turned-roommate more often than not.

One day, he climbs down from the X-Wing after another routine mission, and, walking with BB-8 through the hangar, passes a group of pilots from a squadron other than his. They fall abruptly silent at his approach, but before that, he’s sure he hears Finn’s name. He stops, frowning, and a few of them duck their heads guiltily as he looks around at them. A few others don’t, meeting his gaze with defiance.

“Hey,” he says slowly, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” says one of them, quickly. Too quickly - the others shoot him glares. “We were just - just talking.”

BB-8 makes an inquiring noise.

“That’s what I wanted to know, too,” Poe agrees, and then looks back at them. “Why were you talking about Finn?”

They shuffle, avoid looking at him, and his eyes harden. He shifts, plants himself more firmly in front of them. He’s not particularly tall, but he straightens up, anyway. If it comes to it, he’ll pull rank on them, but there’s one of them - Gilligan, maybe? He can’t remember - who’s looking up, jutting his chin, and he doesn’t think it will be necessary.

“We were just asking the question, _sir_ ,” he says, last word loaded with contempt “if it’s entirely _wise_ to trust a Stormtrooper with the Resistance’s plans.”  

BB-8 beeps furiously. Poe can feel his expression turn cold.

“I see,” he says. “And have any of you taken your concerns to General Organa?”

The recruits who are smart enough to be ashamed of themselves mumble answers in the negative, shake their heads, still staring at the ground, but Gilligan just raises his chin further.  
  
“No,” he says, “but I will. It’s no good him being here, like he’s one of us. We already know he’s a turncoat.”

Poe has to concentrate to stop his hands from clenching into fists.

“Finn turned on the First Order at great risk to his own life, and came here to help us fight when he would have been damn well within his rights getting as far away from them as possible.” He smiles tightly. “But by all means, please let the general know how you feel. I know she welcomes feedback from all her personnel. BB-8, let’s go.”

BB-8 makes one final, threatening roll towards Gilligan, and then accompanies Poe out of the hangar, squawking indignantly on Finn’s behalf. Poe nods grimly, pats the top of its casing.

“I know, buddy,” he says, “don’t worry about it.”

They find Finn in the mess hall with Jess and Snap, who he’d met a few days after his physio was over, and Poe and BB-8 head towards them, fixing a smile on his face. Finn sees them approaching from about halfway across the room, and smiles hugely, waving them over.

“Hey!” He says, loud enough that half the people eating turn to look at him. Jess and Snap look at Poe as he takes the seat beside Finn, and they’ve known him long enough to tell that something’s wrong, but neither of them says anything, and he’s grateful for that.  

“Hey,” he says, “how’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” he says, “Jess was just telling me that you’ve got that supply mission coming up, and she bets that Leia - I mean, General Organa - would let me come with you, if we asked.”

Poe looks at Jess, and she winks.

“We could probably sort something out, yeah,” Poe says, “I was gonna ask you about it, before I said anything. Wasn’t sure you’d wanna come.”

“Are you kidding me?” Finn says. He’s got one hand resting on the top of BB-8’s head, and BB-8 looks totally content to let it stay there. “I mean, D’Qar’s great, and training’s great, but I want to help. Besides, flying with you was the most fun I’ve had since I got here.”

Snap snorts, and quickly disguises it as a cough when Poe turns to shoot him a glare.

“Alright, then,” Poe says, “I’ll talk to the general about it. Been meaning to see her, anyway.”

Finn beams.

“Awesome,” he says. “I gotta go meet Admiral Ackbar to talk him through the Stormtrooper training regime, but tell me what she says later, yeah?”

He claps Poe on the back, waves a quick goodbye to Snap and Jess, and then he’s jogging out of the room. Poe can’t help smiling as he watches him go.

“Gross.” Says Jess, “you’re so gross.”

He turns back to her, scowling.

“I’m just saying, boss,” she says, raising her hands in surrender. “It’s getting kind of embarrassing. Snap thinks so, too.”

Snap nods emphatically, proving her point.

“Whatever,” Poe says, standing. “I’m gonna go see Leia.”

“Sure, it’s important to get your dates approved by your superior officers.” Says Snap, and Poe rolls his eyes even as he turns away, leaving them laughing behind him.

The general approves his request to have Finn along for the supply run with a knowing gleam in her eye. She hasn’t been 100% since Starkiller, for obvious reasons, but she hasn’t faltered once, either. Poe doesn’t have it in him to not admire that kind of strength.

He mentions, in passing, Gilligan, and leaves with a promise that she’ll see to it. He doesn’t doubt it for a second, and sure enough, the next time he sees Gilligan, he's been indefinitely grounded, assisting the sanitation team. It's exactly as satisfying as Poe had hoped it would be.

*

General Organa calls them to her office and tells them that Rey has made contact, that she will be returning before the month is out.

Finn is ecstatic, practically vibrating with excitement as they walk back to their room, and Poe listens indulgently while he recounts all of Rey’s extraordinary adventures, always brushing over his own heroics without even realising he's doing it.

“Man, you shoulda seen the way she flew the _Falcon_ , Poe! Ship hadn't flown in years but she got it going, flew us through a damn cave system without a blink. She’s almost as good a pilot as you.”

Poe reminds himself very strictly that he is not allowed to be jealous of Rey, who is, by all accounts, genuinely a good person, incredibly brave and resourceful, and maybe even the reason they're going to be able to defeat the First Order. The handful of times he met her while they were waiting  for Finn to wake, he had liked her. He is not going to be jealous because goddammit, Rey deserves every ounce of Finn’s admiration, and Finn has already had too many people trying to claim ownership of him. Poe refuses to be one of them.

If everything changes when she arrives, he will deal with it. Finn will have his friendship forever, he thinks. And if it never goes any further than that, Poe will still be grateful.

*

The supply run that Finn is joining him for should be a clean job, but Poe’s nervous about it anyway, just because Finn will be there. He checks and double-checks everything that could go wrong with the freighter they’re flying, reads the brief a hundred times over, and still can’t shake his worry.

Finn is oblivious, just delighted to be included, to be useful. Poe thinks one day he’s going to have to learn how to enjoy his downtime - give someone else a chance at the heroics, for a change - but for now, he’s so excited about his first trip off-planet that Poe doesn’t have the heart to say anything of the sort.

They set off early, Poe, Finn, BB-8, while the base is just settling into its hectic rhythm, because Poe wants to get their mission completed but still leave himself with enough time to show Finn the sights. He has already looked into the local scenery and found a sprawling marketplace that they could probably wander for hours, and in spite of himself, he’s looking forward to it. He can't help it - Finn’s face upon being exposed to anything new is a thing of beauty.

They dock in a slightly shadier part of the port because this is a planet with no declared affiliation to either the Resistance or the First Order, so they’re safer hedging their bets. The contact they’ve been told to meet is Rodian called Taaj’in, a merchant’s wife who has been supplying them with a not insignificant chunk of the things they need on a day-to-day basis - things like fuel cells and toolkits, the occasional shipment of fruit or toiletries. Poe has met her on a few occasions, and he thinks that if she thought she could trust her husband not to bankrupt them, she probably would have joined the Resistance months ago.

“Poe Dameron,” she says, when they enter her shop, coming out from behind the counter to greet them. She has a strange, rasping voice, almost as though it’s layered. “A little birdie told me you’ve had quite the time of it, recently.”

Poe smiles, feigning nonchalance.

“Well, you know how it is,” he says, “First Order ain’t gonna blow themselves up.”

“No, I don't suppose they are.” She agrees, and then turns her attention to BB-8 and Finn, standing in the doorway. “Your little droid I recognise, but who’s your new friend?”

“Finn,” says Poe. “Finn, this is Taaj’in. She’s the reason we’ve had soap for the past month, so be nice.”

“Good to meet you, ma’am.” Finn says, the very image of politeness, as Taaj’in studies him for only a moment longer before she smiles.

“Likewise. Now, Mr. Dameron, are we going to get down to business, or are we just going to stand around talking all day?”

*

After, when they’ve said goodbye to Taaj’in and the new supplies are tied up nicely in the hold, Poe takes Finn to the market. There must be thousands of stalls, he thinks, selling all manner of things, everything from food to furniture, and Finn’s mouth drops open when they round the corner and see it spread before them.

“Whoa.” He says, and Poe laughs.

“Come on,” he says, and tugs his sleeve. “I’ll buy you a gift.”

The wander the aisles for hours, and it is everything Poe had hoped it would be - Finn is enchanted by pretty much everything, stopping every five feet to gape at something new. They pass a street performer swallowing fire, a salesman demonstrating his gravity boots by hanging upside-down from the roof of his stall and an enormously fat, vibrantly orange humanoid complaining loudly about the humidity. Finn is wide-eyed the entire time, and Poe is overwhelmingly grateful that he is allowed to witness it. Eventually, they find a stall selling palm-sized models of all kinds of ship, everything from the Empire’s Star Destroyers to tiny pod racers, and Finn stops dead, pointing to a model X-Wing that looks just like Poe’s, hanging from a hook.

“Look at that,” he says, “that’s your ship.”

Poe watches him, the sheer wonder in his eyes, and turns to the stall-owner.

“We’ll take that one, please.” He says. The stall-owner grunts, and unhooks the ship to wrap it. Finn stares at Poe, looking like he’s about to object, but Poe waves off his protest. He goes to hand over the right amount of credits, and then something catches his eye, and he grins. “And the TIE fighter, too, if you don't mind.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Finn tells him afterwards, admiring his ship from every angle. “I have to pay you back.”

“Finn, relax. It was a present. And besides, I got myself one, too.”

Finn looks down at the TIE fighter, and snorts.

“Mine’s better.” He says, and Poe grins.

“Of course it is,” he says, “but _mine_ is a reminder of how we met. A souvenir.”

Finn throws his head back and laughs.

*

By the time they’re ready to leave, Finn has somehow managed to charm a tiny old woman into giving him a barely-sprouted sapling in a pot, and he’s carrying it proudly, but very carefully, in both hands.

“It’s for Rey,” he explains. “There wasn’t anything green on Jakku, and I haven't seen this kind of tree on D’Qar, either. I think she’ll like it.”

Poe’s heart is a swollen thing in his chest, and at any moment he feels liable to pull Finn in for a kiss, but all he does is smile.

“Buddy,” he says, “she’ll love it.”

Finn smiles softly, and they look at each other for a long, extended moment, until Poe, biting his lip, spots two armed figures in pristine white over Finn’s shoulder, and everything else stops being important.

“Shit,” he says, and he can feel Finn’s eyes on him, scanning his face to see what’s wrong. “We gotta get back to the ship. BB-8, quickly, this way.”

The droid beeps inquiringly, then swivels to face what he’s facing. Its next beep is far more alarmed, and it rushes over to Poe’s side. Finn, frowning, turns to look, and Poe can see the exact moment he realises what he’s seeing. Unfortunately for them, it’s also the exact moment one of the Stormtroopers turns around, and catches sight of them. With just Finn, maybe they would have escaped notice, but with BB-8, there’s no chance. The Stormtroopers start towards them, and Finn, seemingly without thinking, grabs hold of Poe’s hand.

“This way.” He says, and before Poe can really register what’s happening, he’s being pulled back through the twisting aisles of the market, BB-8 whirring behind him, hot on his heels.

Finn runs the most convoluted route he can think of, breathing hard, his hand still gripping Poe’s. They take sudden turns, double back on themselves, and Poe feels like they _must_ have lost their tail, because even he has no idea where they are anymore.

“Turn here.” Finn says, releasing his hand to nudge him gently ahead, into a narrow alley between two store fronts. Poe obeys automatically, caught on the fact that those were the first words Finn had ever said to him.

Finn looks cautiously out from the alley’s mouth while Poe gets his breath back, checking on BB-8.

“Alright, buddy?” He says, and the droid beeps a weary affirmative. He pats it absently, watching Finn return to them, still frowning. His hand feels slightly tingly from where Finn had been holding it.

“I can't see them,” he says, “what should we do?”

“Try and get back to the ship without crossing paths with them, get back to D’Qar and tell the general that the planet’s not as safe as we thought.” Poe says.

“Alright, let’s do it then. BB-8, you good to go?”

BB-8 chirps and Finn nods like he has any idea what it’s said. They exit the alley on high alert, trying to look inconspicuous, and make their way to the landing port without seeing hide or hair of the troopers. They have even managed to hold onto their purchases - Finn is cradling Rey’s plant to his chest more carefully than ever.

“What does it mean if the First Order are already sending troopers way out here?” He asks in a low voice, and Poe grimaces.

“Nothing good,” he says, “if Rey doesn't get Luke back soon, we might have to leave the planet.”

“Let’s hope she gets back soon, then.” Finn says, and BB-8 beeps its agreement.

They are just coming within sight of their ship when Finn throws his arm across Poe’s chest and pulls him backwards, behind a stack of crates on the hangar floor.

“One of them is standing by the ship,” he hisses, and sure enough, there’s the trooper, keeping a keen lookout for their approach. “We can't go in this way.”

Poe stops himself from cursing, but only just. Someone must have sold them out, saw them coming in and reported it to the first Stormtrooper who asked.

“Alright,” he says, “we’ll improvise.”

*

Improvisation means using BB-8 to lure the trooper into a dark corner and ambushing him from behind. Poe grabs both of his arms and holds him while Finn jumps out of the shadows and knocks him solidly round the head with a plank of wood that had been conveniently lying around. He goes down like a sack of bricks, and for a second they just stare at each other over the unconscious body.

“What do we do with them now?” Finn hisses, as if he’s expecting the downed trooper to hear him. Poe reminds himself that he doesn’t have the time to be endeared by that right now. “We can’t leave them, they’ll report back to the First Order.”

“If they haven’t already.” Poe adds grimly, looking down at them.

“Poe,” says Finn, and something in his voice has Poe looking back at him, brow furrowed. “I don’t think I can kill them. Not like this, not while they’re unconscious.”

Poe knows he’s going to have to get used to that ache in his chest eventually.

“Okay,” he says softly, “okay, we can't kill them, that’s fine. We’ll bring them with us.”

“Bring them back? To D’Qar?” Finn looks nothing short of alarmed at the idea, staring at Poe like he’s lost his mind. Poe nods.

“There were two of them, right? But as far as we know, only this one saw the ship. If we bring them on board, tie them up, get them back to the general, they might be able to tell us something useful.”

The Resistance doesn’t usually go in for capture. They rarely have the opportunity, and they’ve never believed it serves much purpose, anyway - most Stormtroopers are so soundly convinced of the First Order’s cause that they would rather die than give it up. Poe knows what that feels like, but at least his loyalty to General Organa was a choice _he_ made 

Finn looks dubious, but gives a shaky nod, and then they’re carrying the trooper across the dock, hauling him into the ship and tying him down.

“BB-8, keep an eye on them.” Poe instructs, and the droid beeps acquiescence - but the trooper doesn't wake.

Finn sits in the copilot’s chair, holding Rey’s plant with a pensive look on his face.

“You okay, buddy?” Poe asks, and he nods.

“Yeah,” he says, “I just hope this was the right thing to do.”

“Sometimes you can only do what you think is best and hope it works out,” Poe tells him, heart squeezing in sympathy. “When we get to D’Qar, we give them over to General Organa and she gets to decide what to do with them. It’s not our responsibility anymore.”

*

He’s wrong about that, as it turns out. They land back on D’Qar and carry out the trooper before they move any of the other supplies. By the time the general arrives at the hangar to see them, quite the crowd has gathered, necks craned curiously to look at their strange cargo.

“Wow,” mutters Jess to Poe, “you’ve outdone yourself, this time.”

General Organa’s presence reminds everyone that they have their own jobs to do, and they file out slowly as she approaches the spot where Finn and Poe are standing on either side of the bound trooper.

“Commander Poe,” she says, “I thought this was a supply run.”

“It was, General,” he replies, “but there was an unexpected complication. Finn and I weren't anticipating having to run from Stormtroopers this far from the Outer Rim - after this one located our ship, we didn't feel we had a lot of options.”

“They shouldn't be this far into the galaxy,” she says, brow furrowed, “we’ll take the prisoner in for questioning, see what they can tell us.”

Poe nods, and the general looks at Finn.

“If you don't object, Finn, I may call on you later to see if the prisoner responds better to someone who used to belong to the same group.”

Poe frowns at her, looking to Finn for his reaction. His fingers are tapping an anxious rhythm against his thigh, but he jerks his head in a nod in answer to General Organa’s question.

She smiles.

“Thank you.”

She looks over her shoulder and waves towards the prisoner, beginning to stir, and a group of soldiers steps forward to lift them up and into the base. She follows behind, and what was left of the crowd disperses, murmuring to each other.

Poe watches Finn watch them with his eyebrows drawn together.

“Finn,” he says, “are you sure you’re okay to do this? No-one’s gonna make you if you say no.”

But Finn shakes his head stubbornly.

“If that soldier can tell us anything about the First Order, I should help. We need to know everything we can so that we have a shot when Rey comes back.” He says, and then looks at Poe, finally. “Will you come with me? I can talk to them, but I don't want to do it alone.”

“Of course,” Poe says, meaning it, “of course I will.”

*

Leia calls for Finn an hour or two later, and he looks at Poe, determined, and Poe nods. Together, they make their way to the unused storage room which is being used as a cell, and she meets them at the door. She doesn't look surprised to see Poe.

“He hasn’t said much,” she tells them, “anything you can get out of him would be useful.”

Poe sees Finn visibly steel himself, and then he’s pushing open the door, entering the room, Poe a step behind him.

The prisoner is tied to a chair in the middle of the otherwise bare room. His helmet and blaster have been removed, and under his helmet he’s pale, blond hair cut brutally short - regulation length, Poe supposes. He glances sideways at Finn to see if there’s any sign of recognition or distress, and Finn glances back and gives a quick shake of his head. No, he doesn't know him.

But the trooper knows Finn.

“FN-2187,” he says slowly, watching him walk into the room, barely sparing a flicker of interest for Poe, who settles back into a corner, leaning up against the wall with his hand on his blaster, just in case. “The traitor.”

Finn doesn't flinch, and pride swells in Poe’s chest.

“They call me Finn, here,” he says, “and I’m not a traitor. I’m a hero, now.”

 _You’re goddamn right_ , Poe thinks.

“You are a traitor to the First Order. You abandoned your cause and your comrades to take up arms against us with a group of rebel scum.”

Poe scowls, straightens against the wall, but Finn shoots him a look and he lets himself be calmed by it. When Finn needs his input, he will ask for it. Until then, he’s only there for moral support.

“I didn't abandon anything,” Finn says, “I just saw what was going on. What the First Order was doing. I was there on Jakku when they opened fire on a village of innocent people. I didn't want to be a part of that.”

“Stormtroopers do not get to question their orders,” the trooper says, leaning forward against his restraints, “Our job is to follow the commands of our leaders without objection.”

Poe almost pities him. He cannot imagine growing up like that, with no autonomy, no control over what you did. Seeing this trooper makes him appreciate all over again how impressive it is what Finn has done. He doesn't even think the Empire’s control of their soldiers went this deep, and yet, Finn managed to shake a lifetime of programming. He is a miracle.

“Not mine,” says Finn, “not anymore. I make my own choices now. I’m not like the rest of them, just puppets and cannon fodder. And you don't have to be, either. You can help us. You can _choose_ \- a different life, a better one. What’s your serial number?”

The trooper shakes his head.

“I will not disclose the secrets of the First Order to the Resistance.” He says, and Finn looks at Poe, despairing. Poe steps forward, assumes an air of casual curiosity as he inspects the trooper’s face.

“I’d say he looked like a Tomas,” he decides, and Finn smiles at him.

“You see? You can have a _name_ here. You can be anyone. You can run to the Outer Rim and no-one will stop you. You can have a _life._ Just help us.”

But the trooper shakes his head again, the motion almost mechanic.

“No,” he says, “I will not betray my leaders. I will not. The First Order will crush the Resistance and purge disorder from the galaxy, and you, FN-2187, cannot prevent it. The First Order will prevail!”

As he speaks he looks more and more frantic, so that by the end of his speech, his eyes are bulging, cheeks flushed, and there's a fleck of spittle on his chin.

“His name is Finn.” Poe tells him. “And the Resistance will never bow to the likes of you.”

He looks at Finn, watching the trooper sadly.

“Come on,” he says, “the general will decide what to do with him. You tried.”

Carefully, he slips his hand into Finn’s and leads him from the room. They can hear the trooper shouting defiance all the way down the corridor.

*

Later, they’re breathing into the quiet night in their beds on opposite sides of the room, Rey’s plant catching moonlight on the windowsill, Finn turning over his tiny X-Wing in his hands. Poe watches him frown at it, licks his lips like he’s going to say something, and then doesn't. It doesn't matter though, because Finn does.

“Hey, Poe?” He asks, voice quiet in the dark, without looking at him.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“You think there are others like me?”

Poe looks at him, lying just on the edge of his bed so that the moon paints silver stripes over his skin.

“I don't know,” he says, “I think maybe you’re one of a kind.”

Finn stays quiet, with that thoughtful frown still stuck on his face, so Poe tries again.

“It doesn't mean you’re alone, though.” He says. “Not so long as I’m here.”

And Finn turns to him, head on the pillow, and his eyes are invisible in this light but when he smiles, Poe can just see his teeth.

*

He wakes up choking, gasping for breath. His eyes dart around the room before they focus on the face hovering above him, and he’s about to lash out when he registers the warm hand holding his, and realises that it’s Finn. Something in him relaxes.

“Finn,” he sighs, “buddy.”

“You were dreaming.” Finn says. “Are you okay?”

Poe closes his eyes and nods, squeezes his hand.

“Yeah,” he says, “just a nightmare.”

Finn is watching him closely, sitting just on the edge of the bed.

“What was it about?” He asks.

Poe looks at him. For a long moment, he doesn’t think he’s going to answer, but there’s nothing but plain concern in Finn’s face, and he finds himself speaking almost without wanting to.

“Just. Kylo Ren.” He says. “I keep thinking I’m back there, where you found me.”

Finn holds his hand tighter.

“I wouldn't let him take you again.” He says. He sounds fierce, and for a second, Poe believes it, believes that Finn has it in him to stop Kylo Ren and all the forces of the First Order. He thinks how funny it is, that they’ve both promised this to each other.

He smiles, even though he can still see Ren’s mask, a gloved hand reaching through him.

“Thanks, buddy,” he says. He untwines their fingers and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “You should go back to sleep.”

Finn looks at him, narrows his eyes and tilts his head like he’s thinking something through.

“Not until you do,” he says eventually, and before Poe can protest, he’s being tugged gently upright. “C’mon.”

Finn tangles their fingers together again and leads Poe across the room to his bed. He climbs in, slides over, and looks up at Poe expectantly.

“Finn, I’m fine, I don't need -”

“My nightmares aren’t as bad when I know someone else is around,” Finn interrupts, “if you sleep here, you’ll know I’m right next to you, and that you’re safe.”

It’s too late and Poe is too tired to think of something to argue with that logic, but he knows he should because Finn is his _friend_ \- he’s being pulled into the bed before he can finish the thought, and Finn pulls him back against his chest and lays an arm over his waist so he can't go anywhere.

“Go to sleep, Poe.” He says, and they’re so close that his breath raises the hairs on the back of his neck, whispers past his ear.

In spite of himself, Poe does as he’s told.

*

They don't talk about it the next morning when they wake, but Poe has to admit he feels better-rested than he has in months. He’s thinking about it while he works on the X-Wing with BB-8 later that day, and he’s so distracted that he doesn't realise Jess has been trying to get his attention until she gets impatient and throws a wrench that he barely manages to dodge at him. BB-8 makes an objecting noise, and Poe has to agree with it, looking at Jess in bewilderment.

“What did _I_ do?” He asks, and she rolls his eyes.

“Boss, I’ve been asking you to pass me that toolkit for the past five minutes.” She says, overturning a crate of supplies and dropping down on it. “Now, what’s eating you? Nothing distracts you this bad, normally.”

“I’m fine, Jess,” he says, “just zoned out on you for a while. It’s easily done, you know.”

She doesn't allow his jibe to throw her.

“Nah, something’s got you rattled,” she says, and then she spots something over his shoulder, and a sly grin comes over her face. “It wouldn't have anything to do with everyone’s favourite ex-trooper, would it?”

Poe glances behind him, and there’s Finn, on the other side of the hangar. Admiral Ackbar is patiently talking him through blaster upkeep, but he’s got a quiet crowd with him, mostly the younger pilots on-base who’ve drifted over to watch. Finn has, unsurprisingly, endeared himself to pretty much every single person on D’Qar, to the point where his posse of keen observers is not even a surprise anymore. Poe turns back to Jess, raises his eyebrows.

“Why would you say something like that?” He asks.

“Because everyone with eyes in their head can see you mooning about over him.” She replies bluntly, and BB-8 lets out a stream of beeps that sound suspiciously like laughter. “Now boss, I love ya, but you’re not fooling anyone. I reckon the only person here who doesn't know how you feel is Finn himself, and that’s only because he grew up on a planet where feelings were capital-B bad for you. You should talk to him. That little droid of yours needs a father-figure.”

Before Poe can even begin to cobble together a comeback, Jess is bouncing away back to her ship, toolkit in hand. Poe looks at BB-8.

“You don't think she’s right, do you?”

BB-8 whirrs thoughtfully for a long time, like it’s stalling, and then extends the lighter on its arm in a gesture that’s either meant to be a thumbs-up or a middle finger. Neither is particularly reassuring.

“Thanks.” Poe says, voice dry, and the droid beeps cheerfully.

*

The _Falcon_ lands in the hangar the next day. Finn and Poe are there of course - just about everybody is, too curious about Luke Skywalker and his new apprentice to care much about their usual chores - and between Finn and BB-8, it’s difficult to tell who’s more excited to see Rey again. The general is out in the middle of the hangar on her own, waiting for the ramp to descend, and when Chewbacca steps out before anyone else, she pulls him into a fierce embrace. It’s strange to think she’s known him for as long as she’d known her husband. Skywalker comes next. Poe isn't sure why, but he’d always imagined him taller. He steps off the ramp and a quiet awe sweeps over the assembled crowd. He says something to the general, and she replies, but they’re too far away to hear, and next thing they’re hugging, General Organa’s arms around him even tighter than they’d been around the Wookiee.

In the quiet that had followed Luke, no-one but Finn and BB-8 notice Rey step onto the planet. From this distance, she looks exactly the same as she’d looked when she’d left, except she stands taller, somehow, and there’s an aura of tangible power surrounding her. Finn lets out a whoop, and then he’s running full-pelt across the hangar to meet her. She sees him coming from halfway, and her face lights up. When they collide, Finn sweeps her up into a hug that lifts her off her feet, and when BB-8 and Poe make their way over, he’s spinning her round in a circle, both of them laughing fit to burst.

Finn puts her down eventually, beaming.

“I missed you.” He says, and Rey smiles.

“I missed you, too,” she says. BB-8 chirps loudly and rolls against her leg, and she crouches immediately to fuss over it. “And of course I missed you, BB-8!”

She strokes its casing lovingly for a moment, and then looks up at Poe.

“Good to have you back.” He says. Her smile grows, and she stands and takes him completely by surprise with a hug.

“Thank you for looking after him.” She says into his ear, so quiet that Finn can’t hear her, and then she steps away, smile like the sun.

“Rey!”

They all turn at the sound of her voice to see Luke Skywalker gesturing for her to come over, and she looks back at them and her smile turns apologetic.

“I’ll see you all later and tell you everything.” She promises, and then jogs across the blacktop to meet her new master.

Poe looks at Finn, and Finn looks back at him, still grinning wide.

“She’s back.” He says.

“Really?” Says Poe, grinning, “I hadn't noticed.”

*

Rey is delighted with her plant. She has a handful of possessions - her staff, her own lightsaber, and a single set of clothes separate from the one she’d arrived on D’Qar with, and Poe makes a mental note to fix that as soon as he’s able. He’s already started with Finn.

She’s staying close to the centre of the base, near General Organa and Luke Skywalker, who has melded seamlessly with operations. Poe thinks it’s strange until he remembers that he’s been here before, fighting the Dark Side alongside his sister from a rebel base. He wonders how often he feels like he’s repeating the past. He’s training Rey, she explains, in the art of becoming a Jedi. She’s already learnt how to move things across the room with the Force, and she demonstrates this gleefully, almost smug when she sees the open-mouthed awe on their faces.

“Luke says he’s going to keep training me while we’re here,” she tells them. “He showed me how to make this, so we could spar.”

She holds up her lightsaber, and when she pushes the button, it thrums to life and glows bright purple, lighting up her room.

“That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.” Finn says. Poe can’t help but agree.

She lets them watch her when she goes sparring with Luke, one day. They’re inside the same room Finn had used for his physical therapy, a gymnasium of sorts. Poe, Finn and BB-8 sit on a bench pressed against the wall and watch in sheer astonishment as the two Jedi fight, everything a clash of green and violet light, literal sparks bouncing against the floor. Luke moves with a grace that should make him slow, but somehow it doesn’t, and he matches Rey’s less tidy movements blow-for-blow. She’s not quite as good as him, but it’s easy to see that the difference is only a matter of experience - Rey seems to learn as she fights, changes her rhythm in the middle of an attack to better rival Luke’s. Poe has never seen a Jedi fight before, but even he can see that she has potential in buckets. Neither of them quite manage to win the sparring match, and after a while, Luke simply gestures for a finish, turning off his lightsaber. Rey mimics him, and they bow to each other, and then she looks to her audience, beaming, and Finn and Poe whoop and applaud with as much enthusiasm as they can muster, BB-8 rolling in excited figure-eights on the floor and squealing its support. Rey giggles.

“You’re learning quickly.” Luke tells her, with a smile, and she blushes.

“Thank you.” She says. She points to Finn. “Master Skywalker, this is the friend I was telling you about, Finn. He used your lightsaber on the Starkiller - I was wondering if you would teach him to spar.”

Finn looks as taken-aback by this turn of events as Poe is, even as Luke turns to look at him, considering.

“Alright,” he says eventually. “If he doesn’t object.”

Finn shakes his head quickly, and gets to his feet. He takes off his jacket and folds it carefully over the bench. Poe knows he has been curious about this ever since he first handled a lightsaber on Takodana - knows he feels that he might have been able to stop Kylo Ren, if he’d known how to use one properly.

Rey crosses the floor and hands him her saber with an encouraging smile.

“Good luck.” She says, squeezing his wrist, and then she sits down in his unoccupied space next to Poe to watch.

Finn takes his place opposite Skywalker, rolls his shoulders, adjusts his stance, holding the lightsaber two-handed in front of him. He waits for Luke to turn his on before he presses the button to make it flare into life, and then they’re sparring.

It’s nothing like watching Luke fight Rey - even inexperienced, she moved with something, some kind of instinctive grace that doesn’t resemble the way Finn fights at all. If Poe could pin down the difference, he might say that Rey moved like a dancer, and Finn moves like a soldier. He’s not even close to being a match for Skywalker, but he doesn’t miss a single step, doesn’t stumble once, and he holds him off admirably for someone with next-to-no knowledge of how to do this.

“He’s good,” Rey murmurs, and Poe feels guilty for almost forgetting she’s there. “I only lasted a little longer in my first match against Luke.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.” Poe tells her without looking away from the fight, and it’s true. The day Poe had met him, Finn had learned how to fire a TIE blaster within minutes of climbing behind it. That he’s picked this up just as quickly is just another reminder of how extraordinary he is.

They watch him, and he blocks every strike up until the very last, when Skywalker’s lightsaber slips under his guard, knocks his weapon out of his hand and comes to rest inches away from his throat. Poe can see his nervous swallow even from where he’s sitting. Skywalker smiles, turns off his lightsaber, and bows. Finn gives a shaky grin, and bows back. When he looks up again, he seeks Poe and Rey, and they cheer for him, Rey stomping her feet on the ground. BB-8 waves its lighter-arm in the air in its new favourite gesture, and someday, Poe is going to find out where it learned to do that.

“Poe.” Rey says softly, while Luke begins to talk Finn through some of his mistakes. Poe tears his gaze from them, and turns to look at her instead, smiling.

“What’s up?”

“You should talk to him.”

Poe doesn't know what to say to that.

“About what?” He manages eventually, and Rey smiles.

“You _know_ what.” She says.

“You using the Force on me?” He asks, teasing her, mostly. She rolls her eyes.

“No,” she says, “I’ve just seen the way you look at him.”

“Well, he’s pretty special.”

“You don't need to tell _me_ that,” she says. “But really, Poe - talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”

Poe looks at her, considering.

“You don’t feel the same?” He asks. He’s been curious about it for a while, but it’s never been something he thought would have to ask about - he always assumed that if it _were_ the case, that would be obvious as soon as she returned.

Rey shakes her head.

“I love him,” she says, “very much. But I don't think it’s the same.”

“Huh.” Says Poe. He’s still thinking about it when Finn jogs over to them, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow.

“Did you see that?!” He asks excitedly. He hands Rey her lightsaber back. Poe grins up at him.

“Of course we did,” he says, “you did great, buddy.”

Finn beams.

“Rey,” calls Skywalker, over his shoulder, “one more match, and then we’ll call it a day, shall we?”

Rey nods, stands. She shoots a significant look at Poe, and then she’s gone. Finn collapses back into her seat, pulls the jacket onto his lap.

“That was so cool,” he says. “You think Luke’d let me have my own one of those things?”

Poe laughs, claps him on the back and lets his hand linger for just a moment longer than he means to, fingers trailing over Finn’s spine.

“We’ll see.” He says.

This time, Rey comes within inches of winning the match. Jess walks in halfway through, crouches down next to Poe without taking her eyes from the light show for a second.

“Hey boss,” she says, “General wants you. Who’s _that_?”

Poe looks at her, staring blatantly at Rey as she twists and jabs her lightsaber towards Luke with all the precision of a ballerina, and smirks.

“That’s Rey.” He says. Jess finally rips her gaze away long enough to stare at him in disbelief.

“ _That’s_ the Jedi?” She says. She looks back to where Rey is laughing in breathless exhilaration as she blocks one of Luke’s swings. “Oh wow. I’m in trouble.”

Poe looks between the two of them, tips his head back, and _laughs_.

*

The general tells him that they’re leaving D’Qar as soon as possible.

“We’ve already waited too long,” she says, “but your sighting of troopers on that supply run seals the deal. We need to evacuate. Spread the word.

Poe nods, and doesn't ask what happened to the trooper they’d captured on that mission. Some things, he thinks, he’s better off not knowing.

News spreads quickly. Suddenly, everyone on-base is a flurry of motion, packing their things together ready for the evacuation. Poe packs efficiently but not tidily and after that, busies himself with making sure his X-Wing and BB-8 are both flight-ready. Finn comes to help him with that, Rey too, when she’s not training, because the two of them have barely any luggage at all.

Two days before they’re set to leave, someone (probably Snap) decides that the best way to bid a proper farewell to the planet that’s been their home for so long is to throw a raging party in the mess hall, and to everyone’s utter disbelief, General Organa agrees.

This is how Poe finds himself sandwiched comfortably between Rey and Finn, both happily-drunk, Finn swaying against him in his jacket. Snap and Jess had been on the other side of the table, getting the drinks in all evening, so Poe blames them entirely for the slight blurriness of his vision every time he moves his head too quickly and for the way that his arm is somehow around Finn’s waist without him remembering when he put it there, but they’re out in the middle of the room and dancing, now. There’s music playing from somewhere, and colourful lights playing over the whole scene, and it looks like the entire Resistance is here, and Poe feels utterly content. Jess keeps catching his eye from across the room and waggling her eyebrows suggestively, nodding towards where Finn’s hand is clutching his forearm, but he’s figured out that all he has to do is incline his head towards Rey and do the same to make her leave him alone.

“Admiral Ackbar!” Calls Finn suddenly, waving. He looks at Poe, surprisingly serious for someone as drunk as he is.

“I have to go and talk to the admiral.” He says. “I’m going to buy him a drink.”

This makes Rey giggle hysterically into her drink, but all Poe does is nod dumbly, smiling at him as he stands, smiling after him as he walks away.

Rey nudges him with her elbow. Her face is flushed, her hair coming out of the three loose knots she usually keeps it in, her eyes bright. 

“You should _tell_ him,” she says. “You should tell him tonight. I’m going to dance with Jess.”

She puts her drink down on the table with determination and walks to Jess’ side with an impressive amount of co-ordination. She smiles down at Jess and Poe has the pleasure of seeing Jess blush before Finn returns to the table.

“Admiral Ackbar didn't want a drink,” he says, “but that’s okay. I just wanted to tell him thank you for teaching me all that stuff about droids and starfighters.”

Poe blinks at him, and he knows he’s had too much to drink, because he feels, ridiculously, jealous.

“ _I_ could teach you those things.” He says, and Finn smiles dopily at him.

“I know you could.” He says. He slides over so that they’re pressed together, thigh-to-thigh, and laces his fingers through Poe’s where they’re laying on the table. “Hey, Poe?”

Poe’s mouth has gone very dry. He feels, all-of-a-sudden, much more sober.

“Yeah?” He says. Finn looks at him, and under the lights of the party, his smile is so bright he’s practically glowing.

“Rey says I need to talk to you.” He says, and Poe feels his face heat.

“She -”

Finn shushes him, brushing his thumb reassuringly over the back of his hand, still smiling. He is probably the most adorable drunk Poe has ever seen.

“She told me to tell you that I like you. A lot.”

Poe’s breath catches.

“Yeah?” He says.

“Yeah.” Says Finn. “Do you like me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I like you Finn. I like you a lot.”

Finn’s smile is beatific.

“Good,” he says, “that’s good.”

Poe doesn't know when he started looking at Finn’s lips rather than into his eyes, but it must have happened at some point.

“Yeah.” He breathes. “It is.”

“Hey, Poe?”

Poe looks up, but Finn’s eyes are on his mouth, too.

“I’m gonna kiss you, if that’s okay.” He looks Poe in the eye and it’s all Poe can do to nod, mutely.

Finn smiles, all soft and fond, and leans in. Poe closes his eyes, and lets himself be kissed, all the breath rushing out of him in one long sigh when Finn’s lips meet his.

It’s a nice kiss. Finn’s lips are warm and he tastes of Corellian ale, and when Poe opens his mouth just a little, Finn presses closer and makes a pleased noise, untangling their fingers so he can pull Poe in by the front of his shirt, just a gentle pressure.

After a minute though, Poe pulls back, and Finn looks wounded until he takes his hand again and brushes his lips across the knuckles of it.

“We should try this again,” he says, “when we’ve had less to drink.”

Finn’s watching him, almost pouting.

“I didn't do that because I was drunk.” He says, and Poe smiles at him.

“Neither did I.”

That seems to make him feel better at least.

“Can we go home?” He asks. “I’m kind of tired.”

“Sure, buddy.” Poe says, nodding. “Let’s say goodbye to Rey.”

Rey is slow-dancing with Jess to a song that's far too fast for a slow dance while Snap laughs, leaning her head against Jess' shoulder even though Jess is almost a head shorter. She smiles very sweetly at them as they say goodbye. Over her shoulder, Jess’ face has acquired an incredibly rosy flush. Her hands are on Rey’s waist very cautiously. Poe gives her a thumbs-up as he lets Finn pull him away by the hand.

The corridors are empty as they wind their way back to their room, leaning on each other for support. Everyone’s at the party or in their own quarters at this time, and Poe thinks that’s probably a good thing. Neither he nor Finn would ever live it down if someone saw them stumbling home in this state.

When they finally get back, Finn toes off his boots and slumps facedown onto his bed with a grunt. He would probably fall asleep like that if Poe didn't pull him upright and hand him a glass of water.

“You'll thank me for that tomorrow,” he says. His own buzz is all but worn off - between the kiss and the walk back, and all the practice he’s had sobering up after so many nights sneaking drinks with Jess and Snap, he almost feels back to normal. “And take your jacket off before you go to sleep.”

“S’your jacket.” Finn says, but does as he’s told, folding it with a very profound look of concentration on his face, and hanging it neatly over the edge of the bed. In retrospect, Poe shouldn't have let him drink so much, but then, he more than deserves a night off.

“Goodnight, Finn.” Poe says, shrugging out of his own jacket and sitting on his bed to tug off his boots.

Finn makes a noise of wordless protest, and Poe looks up at him, frowning in concern.

“What’s up?” He says.

“Sleep over here,” Finn says. “S’cold.”

Poe can't tell if it’s cold or not, because he feels abruptly very warm.

“You sure?” He asks, and Finn rolls his eyes.

“ _Yes_ ,” he says. “Hurry up.”

Poe puts his hands up in a gesture of surrender, and picks his way across the room to Finn’s bed. Finn tugs at him until they’re settled like before, Poe’s back to Finn’s chest, Finn’s arm around him.

“We can sleep now.” Finn says, and Poe laughs softly.

“Alright,” he says. “Goodnight, Finn.”

Finn is already asleep, curled around him, his mouth inches away from his neck.

Poe smiles, and closes his eyes.

*

When Poe opens his eyes the next morning, Finn is watching him. Somehow during the night he has turned, and now they’re facing each other.

“Hey.” Finn says, smiling. Poe registers that he still has him arm over his waist.

“Hey.”

“No nightmares?”

“No nightmares.” Poe confirms, and Finn grins.

“That’s good.” He says.

“Mm,” says Poe. “Hey, Finn?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna kiss you, if that’s okay.”

Finn huffs a laugh, but nods, and Poe is smiling as he presses forward, wraps his arms around his neck, and kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: *has 7,000 words of coursework to do*  
> Me: *spends my time writing 15,000+ words of Stormpilot*
> 
> So some of this is probably wildly inaccurate and OOC but I'm new to Star Wars so sorry. 
> 
> Come talk to me at queer-z0mbies.tumblr.com if you want!


End file.
